


the dreams of you and me

by kadma



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Codependency, Cunnilingus, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-25 01:39:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12025389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kadma/pseuds/kadma
Summary: Skin on skin on skin. No barriers where it matters the most.Written for Barebacking/Unsafe Sex on my@seasonofkink card.Written for #17 in theShakespeare Quote Prompt Table.





	the dreams of you and me

**Author's Note:**

> "Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love." - Antony and Cleopatra

What _are_ they, exactly? It's a question she asks herself too often.

Billie grabs Peyton's arm in the corridor and pulls her close, transferring the latest gossip with a whisper. There's comfort in the way their bodies connect. There's history in their touch, too: Billie asking her to prom as friends, because all the boys are creeps, Billie kissing her one New Year's Eve, suddenly, and laughing it away as it being too sad _not_ to kiss someone when the clock brings a fresh start. There's the feeling of Billie grabbing her hand as they walk to the ring, as warm and reassuring as the first time during tryouts. Sometimes, the strength of their relationship is overwhelming.

It doesn't matter what they call the thing they do in the dressing rooms, when panic starts to rise. It's a way to calm pre-match jitters, but their hearts beat with something more than fear as Billie's fingers pinch her nipples through her ring gear, and Peyton's tongue licks a line along Billie's throat and over her collar bones. The blood throbs through her head as Peyton dips her finger into the side of Billie's leotard and glances at her, questioning. Billie gives a desperate nod.

Skin on skin on skin. No barriers where it matters the most. It would be dangerous, if Peyton didn't trust Billie so entirely, didn't know that Billie trusted _her_ entirely, to know that they have and want and use and need only each other.

Billie bites her lip as Peyton sinks to her knees, admiring the delectable tan of those bare legs, smiling devilishly. Peyton kisses Billie's thighs, working her way towards the apex. She takes in the heady, mesmerising scent of Billie, before looking up into those smoky eyes and licking her lips. Peyton laps up the wetness along Billie's slit. She turns her attention to the scarlet, throbbing bud, lightly prodding it with her tongue and earning a whimper. This is what she enjoys most, this control, this closeness. She loves the taste of Billie.

As Peyton starts to suck on that pretty little clit, she basks in the knowledge that no condoms or dental dams or anything she's been ever taught in high school sex ed would ever let them be this close, be together so absolutely. Pure contact: that's what allows her tongue and lips and the light grazing of her teeth to follow along with each of Billie's movements. She feels that heat, that want and need, with her own body, feels the rise and fall of Billie's hips, those manicured nails scratching at Peyton's scalp, until finally Billie comes on her tongue, screaming in ecstasy. Peyton holds onto Billie's thighs while she drowns in the taste of her, sweet juices coating her face messily, streaking over her chin. Peyton pulls back with a wet pop and smiles, licking her lips.

The heightened lust in Billie's post-orgasm gaze is so, so _good._

Billie grabs her by the back of the neck and pulls her up for a long, breath-stealing kiss. No fear, no guilt, no apprehension. Only the taste of Billie, only the sight of Billie ravaging her mouth to get a taste. Only heat in her wanting core.

Peyton falls onto Billie. Their bodies still in synchronisation. She needs a moment to get some air, so deep and shaking is her breath. Peyton takes Billie's hand and guides it to her stomach, dragging it down, down, down, until her fingertips rest against the band of Peyton's green shorts.

They laugh together, cry together, and in the midst of being one with Billie in skin and slick, she forgets she's Peyton Royce, a separate person.


End file.
